


You will be Found

by Hecate1412



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Depression, Everyone hates Jeremy, I think he has PTSD from the whole squip event, Like so many OC, Major Depression, Michael Mell Protection Squad, No-one dies, Post-Squip, There are a lot of OC's, There is cussing just a heads up, kinda suicidal thoughts but not really, my poor boy is suffering but hopefully things will get better, probably a lot of ansgt, psychological abuse, they may have gone overboard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecate1412/pseuds/Hecate1412
Summary: “Hey Michael, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such an ass. I know I don’t deserve to talk to you, but I just needed to say sorry…again. You deserve to have better friends than me and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Tell the others I’m sorry. Tell them I hope they thrive in the future, but I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t handle everyone hating me. God, I just wanted to make friends and fit in but now I have absolutely no one, so what’s the point of me staying? It would be better if I just disappeared from everyone’s life .You all can move on and be happy. Mike, I’m sorry about what happened last Halloween. I’m sorry about what happened between us because of the Squip. I suppose I deserve the hate though, because I finally understand what you were feeling after I left you. I hope no one ever makes you feel that worthless ever again. I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough. I’ll see you around.”After the whole Squip incident during the play, nearly the entire school hates Jeremy. He can't blame them, after all, he hates himself to, so he thinks it will be better for everyone if he just disappears.





	1. Disappear

The months after the incident were the hardest. All Jeremy wanted to do was be cool and make some friends, but now that was never going to happen. No, now everyone hated him. They didn’t have to say it to his face, but he could tell. It was in the way they looked at him, the way the avoided and ignored him. It was in the way they dragged him behind the football stadium and beat him up.

The last few months were rough.

Jeremy had never felt so isolated in his life. He could understand why Christine, Rich, Jake, and all the others were mad at him. They had only been friends because of the Squip when he really thought about it, but he thought—he hoped—Michael would understand. He figured everything would be okay if he still had Michael. Michael who he had shoved aside, and called a loser and— _oh god_.

He hoped he would still have Michael. They’d been like brothers, but he figured that was all in the past. Jeremy couldn’t even get his once best friend to text him back. He couldn’t approach him at school, or talk to him, and if he so much as looked weirdly in Michael’s direction he would find himself back behind the football stadium.

He figured he deserved it. He figured the Squip was right. He was terrible. He was so terrible. A terrible terrible terrible person. Michael deserved so much better. Everyone deserved better. No one at this school had done anything wrong--had done anything to deserve what Jeremy had subjected them to. He could apologize all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change anything.

He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d smiled…like actually smiled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt happy. It was…well, he wasn’t really sure anymore. He’d never been this isolated, he didn’t know what to do with these feelings…or lack of feelings. He figured his best way to survive was to keep his head down and try to stay out of the spotlight. And he tried. Lord knows he tried.

His clothes were all neutral and you could always spot him in a hoodie so he could hide when he felt nervous, which was almost always. He’s dumped a portion of his money on noise canceling headphones because all he wanted to do was block out the world. And it worked. His headphones were over his ears every moment he was allowed to be listening to music. It did get him in trouble sometimes though because he had a tendency to zone out as of late. He didn’t really want to exist in the present so he’d retreat into his mind, which is why he found himself being hit in the face with a wad of paper thrown by a student trying to get his attention. He blinked a few times up at the front of the classroom, sliding his headphones off his ear.

“Mr. Heere, class has officially started, please put away your electronics.”

“Ah, okay. Sorry.” He paused the music shifting the headphones to his neck and shoving his phone in his pocket. He was sure he’d heard people laughing at him. He was sure people were staring. He wasn’t sure if he cared anymore. No, he cared, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it so he didn’t resist.

Most of first period passed by in a blur. Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to care about what was happening in school anymore. He was just required to show up, so he showed up. Half way through second period he raised his hand and asked to be excused to the bathroom. He didn’t actually have to go, but he would rather pretend to go there over sitting through chemistry class. He regretted it as soon as he walked into the bathroom.

“Jer?” Michael Mell, his once best friend stood there looking at him with concern. Actual concern.

“Hi, Michael.” He replied praying no one was in the stalls. Rich and Jake led the Michael Mell Protection Squad and they had eyes and ears everywhere. Jeremy would rather avoid them, which meant he’d rather avoid Michael, but—

“A—are you okay?” Jeremy gave him a smile noticing how the tan teen actually flinched away in response.

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” He wasn’t okay. He wanted to scream and cry and yell at Michael about how sorry he was. He wanted to beg for another shot. He would do anything just to have one friend back, but— _I don’t deserve him._

“Well, you’ve just been acting odd.”

“That’s kind of you to be concerned, but I’m doing just swell.” His chest started to tighten and he could feel the panic attack coming. He should leave, he really should.

“Swell? Now I know somethings up.” Jeremy wanted to ask why he cared? A little over two months and this was the first time he’d talked to him. Two months of nothing and the first thing he says is “are you okay?” Jeremy didn’t know what to think about this. He didn’t believe anyone at this school was capable of caring about him anymore, but if that were true then what was Michael up to? Was it pity?

“I’ll just go to a different bathroom then.” He excused himself quickly and left the room. He bumped into Rich on the way out, and as soon as he was out of sight, Jeremy was sprinting down the hall. He could hear Rich yelling somewhere behind him, and if he was lucky their next interaction wouldn’t be until lunch period.

He made it to the next closest bathroom and dived into the first stall, throwing up into the porcelain bowl. He had felt it coming as soon as he ran into Michael. He felt it coming whenever he thought about Michael too much. Because it hurt. God did it hurt. _I just want to go home._

When he was sure that is episode had passed, he stood up and returned to the classroom. He walked to his desk, packed up his belongings, and walked back out the door. His teacher didn’t bother stopping him, this wasn’t the first time Jeremy Heere had walked out of class. It also wasn’t the first time he’d gotten sick at school. Most of his teachers had just come to expect it. On his way to the nurse he ran into another face he’d rather not see.

“Jeremy?” Why did they all act so surprised to see him? Or were they just surprised by what he’d turned into? Gone was the geeky theater nerd who stuttered when he got nervous and smiled whenever his crush walked into the room. Well, he still smiled, but it was an empty smile and he was sure Christine noticed.

“Hey Christine,” he chimed in his forced happy-go-lucky voice. He’s gotten pretty good at it over the past few weeks. “How’s your morning? You’re not one to show up late.”

“I—uh. I had a doctor’s appointment. Are you okay?”

“Funny, Michael asked me the same thing about fifteen minutes ago. I’m surprised you care.”

“You talked to Michael.”

“Don’t worry, Christine, he started the conversation and it would have been rude for me to ignore him. I know you all don’t want me to talk to him, so I made sure to make it short, but I finally understand.” He’d been smiling the entire time, and Christine couldn’t help but feel on edge. It wasn’t a natural smile, and there was nothing behind it. It was just there, like a stamp.

“Understand what?”

“I understand how Michael felt back at the party on Halloween. Being abandoned by the person you hold closest to you. Yeah, it sucks. It sucks worse than death, and someone like Michael never deserved to feel this soul crushing empty depression.”

“Jer—“

“No, no, Christine, it’s okay. It’s okay. I get it now. You all have every right to hate me, and I finally realized that I absolutely deserve all of it.” He wanted to throw up again. “because everything about me is just terrible. I’m a horrible person, Christine, and I’ve finally realized it. Honestly, I deserve to die after what I did. You all would have probably been better off if I was never born. Michael would probably have better friends if he hadn’t been stuck growing up with me. Everyone’s life would have been better if I had just never been born and I wouldn’t have been such a fuck up.” He laughed, it was dry and emotionless. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize, but Michael seems happy being friends with you all, so I hope you treat him better than I did. I hope he never has to feel this feeling ever again. He deserves the world, but I can’t give that to him.”

“Jeremy, you’re scaring me.” He smiled and walked passed her.

“Right, right. I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again then. And you don’t have to worry. I might be terrible and pathetic, but I’m not suicidal. I know I said I deserved to die, but I already messed up and if I died I wouldn’t be able to pay the price for my mistakes. That’s what you all want from me right?” He couldn’t figure out why else they would have ignored him for so long. He’d hoped that everything would clear up after Christmas break, but he had no such luck. January had already come and gone and nothing had changed. Well, he’d exchanged words with Michael Mell, but he didn’t think that counted.

The nurse sighed as soon as Jeremy walked into the room. He’d been a frequent customer. His excuse was that whatever had happened during the play was still affecting him, and the nurse somehow believed it. He tried to come to school, but he got sick frequently. He did get sick but it wasn’t because of the apparent drug everyone on the cast had taken, it was from panic episodes and he could feel one coming.

“Can your father pick you up today?” She asked already pulling out the necessary forms to get him excused from class.

“No. He actually went into the office today, but I texted him earlier and called a car service. They should already be waiting outside.” Mrs. Lemon handed him the pen so he could sign, but hesitated.

“Jeremy, are you okay? You’ve been checking out of school a lot more recently.”

“Funny, you’re the third person to ask me that today,” he hummed bending over to sign his signature and fill out his ailment.

“What did you tell the others?”

“The opposite of what I’m going to tell you. I’m not okay, I’m in a lot of pain, but it’s better for everyone else if they keep believing I’m fine, and it’s easier for me if I keep faking it.” He returned her pen and gave the elder woman a parting wave before retreating outside to find his ride.

The drive was only fifteen minutes, and the entire time, Jeremy tried to drown out his thoughts with music but he had no such luck. Everything that had happened today played on a continuous loop accompanied by the Squip’s favorite phrase and he couldn’t turn it off. He was trying to hold in his panic attack, but it was getting harder to breathe. He was relieved when they finally reached his house. He paid the driver and sprinted into his house, dropping everything by the door as he beelined to the bathroom.

All he could see in his head were the looks Michael and Christine had given him. Like they cared. Like they were concerned. _No one cares about you, Jeremy._ He puked until there was nothing left, but he was still heaving into the toilet. Then he was screaming. He was screaming and crying because it hurt. His best friend had been right in front of him but so far away, and it felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He screamed until the emotions that had welled up inside him fizzled out and died. It’s how these episodes always happened. They left him feeling drained and numb and he sat leaning against the tank of the toilet staring absently at the wall.

_I deserve this._

_I’m terrible._

_I’m horrible._

_I deserve this._

_I deserve this._

_I deserve this._

The words had been playing on a loop for who knows how long. Jeremy hadn’t noticed when it had started, and he certainly didn’t know how to make it stop.

_Everything about you I so terrible._

_Everything about you makes me want to die._

“I know.” He struggled to his feet, using the counter to help keep his balance. He found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’d definitely lost weight, but it wasn’t as noticeable do to the baggy hoodie. There were dark circles under his eye that might as well be tattoos because he doubted they would ever go away. His hair was messy, he’d managed to run a comb through it this morning, but it didn’t seem to do much, and he was pale. He looked sickly. Maybe that’s why they were concerned. He turned away from the mirror and entered his room, flopping down on the bed. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Hey, Jeremy. How you feeling, buddy?” His dad asked from the other line.

“Shitty. I wanted to let you know I got home fine.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be home a little after six, you want me to pick you up anything.” His dad had become a better father after the whole Squip incident. He didn’t know all the details, but Jeremy had told him about what was going on at school.

“Dad, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go to school like this. I can’t constantly go and see all the people who hate me.” He heard his dad sigh on the other end of the line.

“Remember how we talked about homeschooling? I’ve got all the forms ready if you want to take that route.” 

“I—I think that might be a good plan. I just—“ he didn’t know how to explain what was going through his head. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

"Alright, buddy. You okay until I get home?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He lied. “See ya.” He ended the call and let his hand fall to his side. He didn’t want to do this anymore. It was so exhausting. This town was suffocating him, and the only way he’d be able to get out is in a year when he left for college, but that was too far away.

_Everything about you is terrible._

_You deserve this._

_Everything would be better if you just disappeared._

Maybe that was a good idea. Maybe he should just disappear. Everyone would be better off without him, it’s not like they wanted him around anyway. He rolled to his side, sitting up so he could look around the room. He could see everything he needed and got to work. It didn’t take long for him to complete all the preparations. And when he knew he was ready, he made one last call. He called Michael because he knew he wouldn’t pick up. He knew he would get a voicemail and as soon as the beep sounded he started talking.

“Hey Michael, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such an ass. I know I don’t deserve to talk to you, but I just needed to say sorry…again. You deserve to have better friends than me and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Tell the others I’m sorry. Tell them I hope they thrive in the future, but I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t handle everyone hating me. God, I just wanted to make friends and fit in but now I have absolutely no one, so what’s the point of me staying? It would be better if I just disappeared from everyone’s life.You all can move on and be happy. Mike, I’m sorry about what happened last Halloween. I’m sorry about what happened between us because of the Squip. I suppose I deserve the hate though because I finally understand what you were feeling after I left you. I hope no one ever makes you feel that worthless ever again. I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough. I’ll see you around.” He ended the call and shut down his phone, tossing it on his bed as he got up and left the room.


	2. The Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finds a journal.

Michael Mell was usually very good at keeping his phone charged. It had all his music on it and the boy can’t live without his music, but unfortunately something very unfortunate happened. His charger broke. His charger broke in the middle of the night so he arrived at school with only 25% charge. It was dead by the third period, but it was okay. He could borrow a charger from Rich or Christine during lunch, and then he could swing by the store after school to replace his broken one.

_Maybe I can swing by Jeremy’s place as well._

He was still thinking about their run in in the bathroom. Jeremy had looked unnaturally chipper. He had smiled, but his eyes looked void of everything, and he was thin. Michael had grown up with him, he could tell the teen was losing weight even if he masked it with a hoodie. And he was pale. Michael hadn’t seen Jeremy often. It wasn’t a lack of trying, but after everything happened, he just didn’t have time. All the people Jeremy had tried to make friends with flocked to him, and they all had some unconscious anger towards Jeremy. And they were all persuasive. Every time he tried to bring up why they were still mad at him, they would start listing off reasons, and Michael couldn’t help but agree, but seeing Jeremy the way he was…

Michael missed Jeremy. That was the first thing he thought when they stood face to face. Michael missed his best friend. Rich and Jake had done their best to fill the void Jeremy had created with his absence, but it wasn’t the same.

“I can’t believe that prick had the nerve to talk to you!” Rich huffed sitting across from Michael in the hallway.

“I talked to him first, Rich. It’s not that big a deal. Also, can I borrow your charger?” the short teen nodded and tossed over the cable. Michael plugged it in and set it aside until it had enough charge to turn back on.

“Still, he should know better than to talk to you at all.”

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, I kinda miss him. I was thinking about reaching out.” Rich froze, then stared at Michael looking both confused and angry.

“Did you forget what he did to you—what he did to all of us? I’m sorry if you feel pity for him, but he deserves what he’s got, and he most certainly doesn’t deserve you worrying about him.”

“Who doesn’t deserve Michael’s concern?” Christine asked arriving with Jake. They were getting close again, but as far as Michael was concerned they were still just friends.

“Jeremy was talking to Michael today.”

“Again, I talked to him first,” Michael corrected.

“Ah, yeah I heard. I ran into Jeremy when I got to school. Apparently, he got sick again and checked out early.”

“Wait…again?” This was the first time Michael had heard of it. “What do you mean again?”

“The rumor I heard going around is that whatever drug we were all on at the play is still affecting him, and he gets sick regularly and goes home.” Michael’s heart stopped. The only drug they’d been on was the squip and those should be gone. Why would the squip still be making him sick, unless—

“You don’t think the squip came back do you?”

“How could the squip come back?” Christine asked.

“And if Jeremy’s came back mine probably would have come back to. I had mine longer than he did.”

“If I were you, Michael, I would just forget Jeremy. Someone like that doesn’t deserve to be your friend.”

“But you’re not me, Jake, and Jeremy’s like my brother. I don’t know why you all won’t let me talk to him.”

“You heard him say it yourself, didn’t you? The squip isn’t the one who called you a loser and left you to have a panic attack along in the bathroom. That was all Jeremy. Nothing about him would have changed since that time.”

“And, I know from my own experience that the squip can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do unless.”

“Says the guy who burned down a house.”

“It can’t make you do anything you don’t want to unless your judgment is impaired,” he corrected. “Which mine was. You gotta face the facts, he wanted to leave you behind so he could be popular.”

“I just—“ his phone buzzed, finally coming back to life. Michael couldn’t be more relieved until he noticed he had a missed call. “Jeremy called.”

“I say ignore it.”

“He left a voicemail.”

“Delete it,” Jake suggested. Michael ignored them and pressed play. The message played through his speaker and he felt his stomach drop with every passing second. It was Jeremy, but it wasn’t. The quiver in his buddies voice seemed to shake his foundation, the hopelessness and emptiness in the words brought Michael back to that night all those months ago.

“Is—is he saying goodbye?” Jeremy wouldn’t kill himself, would he? _No, Jeremy is—_ Michael wanted to say better than that but he wasn’t sure anymore. Jeremy had seen better days.

“He told me this morning he wasn’t suicidal,” Christine piped in as if it were no big deal, “but he looked significantly paler.”

“Why would he tell you something like that?”

“He was telling me—“ she froze and looked at the others like they were speaking some unspoken language, then she shrugged. “He was saying how he deserved to be hated because he was terrible and deserved to die.”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone about this?” Michael yelled shooting to his feet. “All the red flags of a suicidal thought process and you brushed it off because he said he wasn’t suicidal?” Christine opened her mouth like she wanted to defend herself, but one look from Michael shut her up.

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, leaving.” Michael grabbed his bag. “If I’m lucky my best friend is still alive or at least savable.” He sprinted off to his car, not bothering to sign out. He was certain he ran a few red lights on the way over, but he didn’t care. The faster he could get to the house the better.

He still had a spare house key from before, so he let himself in and ran up to Jeremy’s room. Nothing about the house had changed, but he did notice the absence of a pants-less Mr. Heere lounging in the living room. Jeremy’s room was, well the same, and he didn’t walk in on a dead best friend, but that didn’t relieve him. He checked the bathroom, then every other room in the house, and wasn’t sure what to do when he found it empty. Part of him wanted to go drive around town looking for Jeremy, but a more logical part urged him to call Mr. Heere. Since his phone didn’t have enough of a charge he called from the landline.

“Jeremy?” Mr. Heere called, picking up after two rings. “Is something wrong?”

“Hi, Mr. Heere, this is Michael.”

“Michael? What are you doing at my house? Where’s Jeremy?”

“Actually I was hoping you could tell me. He left me this weird voicemail and I wanted to check in on him because it was—well it sounded like a goodbye. So I rushed to your house and he’s not here.”

“Ah,” he sounded far too relaxed for the situation. “Can you do me a favor. There should be a safe in my office on the main floor, can you check it for me?”

“Check it?” Michael wasn’t sure what good that would do, but he took the wireless phone into the other room to look for the safe. It was easy to spot, having been hidden under the desk. “Is it supposed to be open?”

“No, it’s not. Which means Jeremy was probably in there. Check the side of the fridge next. He might have left a note.” Michael moved back to the kitchen and searched the fridge. Sure enough, there was a note pinned up by a magnet.

“Found it. All it says is ‘I’ll call.’ Mr. Heere what does that mean?”

“Well, he’s not dead like you were thinking. Jeremy’s been in the gutters lately but he’s not suicidal. And I saw this coming. I had hope homeschooling would help, but I guess he couldn’t handle being here anymore. Not that I blame him.”

“Mr. Heere, where’s Jeremy?”

“I don’t know. Usually when someone runs away they don’t want to be found, but he said he’d call, so I’ll trust him for now.”

“Just like that. You’re going to let him run off?” Michael spat. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. He always knew the Mr. Heere wasn’t the best dad but. “You’re his father! You’re not supposed to let him do stuff like this!”

“And you were supposed to be his best friend Michael. Do not assume you had no hand in all of this. I don’t know what was going on between you and Jeremy, but it took its toll on him. I can’t help but hope that whatever he thinks he’s doing, it will lift his spirits because I already reached the conclusion that nothing in this town would be able to anymore. Now if you will excuse me, I have to return to work.” The line went dead, but Michael kept the phone to his ear. Mr. Heere was right. This was his fault. He was supposed to be Jeremy’s best friend but he failed at his one job.

“God, I _am_ a loser,” he muttered, finally putting the phone away. He shuffled up to his best buddy’s room hoping he could maybe find a clue as to where he might have gone. He could have gone to stay with his mom, but they didn’t have a very stable relationship, so he doubted he's be there. Mr. Heere didn’t have any siblings, so there were no relatives on his side Jeremy could have gone to either. And unless Jeremy met someone online, Michael didn’t think he knew anyone else outside of the city.

“If I wanted to hide something where would I put it?” He looked around the room. Jeremy was a pretty simple person, and no one would ever come into his room except for Michael, so stuff wasn’t usually hidden; just put away. And if it wasn’t put away it was probably lost because Jeremy’s room always became messy fast.

Michael found what he was looking for after a quick search of the desk. Apparently Jeremy had ditched the humiliation sheets, but he remembered hearing once that he’d decided to start a journal so he could still record all the shit that happened during the day. Thankfully Jeremy still wrote in it. The first entry he opened to was right before Christmas.

 

_I wonder if I should still send Michael the Christmas gift I got him. I know he doesn’t want to talk to me, but I put a lot of thought into this gift. I had to take a shot of alcohol before I went out to buy it so the squip wouldn’t get in my way. I still got in trouble though because it could see my thoughts. I tried to play it off as a gift for my dad, but considering I gave them to my dad for safe keeping, that lie didn’t hold. Still…if he’s really mad at me, would he even open the gift? Maybe I should hold onto it until things pass over. Besides, I would rather give these to him in person instead of just mailing it._

 

Michael never got the gift, and there was no mention of what it actually was so he couldn’t even begin to guess. He could ask Mr. Heere, but he doubted the man wanted anything to do with him right now.

 

_Okay…so maybe things aren’t going to pass over so easily. Back to school, day one of the second semester and no one at school will talk to me. I tried to talk to Michael today, but Jake got in my path. I tried again later, and Rich was in the way. I thought about waiting for him by his car, but I was grabbed walking out the door and next thing I know I was waking up beat up and bruised behind the football bleachers. What a wonderful start to a new semester. I wish I could say things will get better, but I’m not feeling that optimistic. I just want to apologize. If Michael doesn’t want to be friends with me, it sucks, but I’m not sure I can blame him. I wouldn’t want to be friends with me either after the way I treated him._

 

This was the first time Michael had heard about Jeremy getting beat up. He’d heard rumors about bruises, but he’d also heard Jeremy had started self-harming. Michael didn’t believe that, but when he went to confirm the rumors with Jeremy he couldn’t find him. Anytime he got close Christine or Rich or one of the others would show up and pull him off in the other direction. He should have tried harder.

 

_As far as humiliation goes I think today’s episode tops the list. I passed out in the bathroom from a panic attack. Yup. I don’t remember any of it. What I do remember was the voice. I don’t think I could ever forget it. All it said at first was my name. “Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy.” Then it was quiet and I thought I imagined it, but it kept talking. “You’re so pathetic. You can’t do anything right.” I hadn’t heard the squip talk since the night of the play, but I just kept hearing its voice over and over and over again. The next thing I knew I was lying flat on the ground unable to breathe, barely able to see. I woke up on a cot in the clinic with Mrs. Lemon telling me my dad was on his way to pick me up._

_Is this how Michael felt at the Halloween party?_

 

Micheal remembered hearing about this since news spread like fire on gasoline thanks to Jenna. Were all the other absences due to panic attacks as well?

 

_I had another date behind the football stadium today. I think something in my chest might be broken. Then again that might just be my heart. But I’m starting to see things clearly now, and the squip was right. His words and voice keep echoing in my head. It was weird at first, my heart would beat faster and panic would overwhelm me, but now? Now I don’t really feel anything other than a vague understanding and agreement. The squip was always right about me. Everything about me is terrible. I’m a terrible friend, I’m probably a terrible son, and I am definitely terrible person. I miss Michael, but I suppose this is my karma. Besides, he seems happy with the others and I wouldn’t want to ruin that for him. Out of everyone at our school, he’s one of few who has never done anything truly wrong. He deserves the world._

 

“No…buddy.” Michael wanted to cry. He wanted to find his friend and hug him till he felt better, but he was too late. This shouldn’t have happened. He shouldn’t have let this happen. He should have been more assertive with the others. He should have noticed how bad things were getting for Jeremy.

 

_I talked to Christine today. I wish I hadn’t. I wanted to talk to Michael, but as I’ve learned I can’t get near him or even look at him without risking another trip behind the bleachers. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now. Anyway, back to Christine. I figured talking to her was my best bet since Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna are completely ignoring me, and Jake and Rich looked like they would pummel me into the ground if I approached them. Christine didn’t look all that happy when I approached her either, but she didn’t stop me. I wanted to talk to Michael. That’s it. I wanted to talk to him and apologize. I wanted to patch things up, or at least try to. I wanted my best friend back. You know what she told me? “After everything you put him through, you don’t deserve him as a friend.” She wasn’t wrong and I didn’t have any argument so I just lowered my head and walked away. I don’t deserve to be Michael’s friend. I don’t deserve to be anyone’s friend after what I pulled._

 

Michael couldn’t believe Christine would say something like that. Then again, they all held some level of hostility towards Jeremy after the play.

 

_Rich had his squip longer than I had mine. I wonder if he can hear his sometimes. Maybe I’m just overreacting. I mean…the Code Red Mountain Dew destroyed the Squips, right? What if they didn’t actually die? What if they’re still subconsciously there? What if they’re—like—mad I tried to kill them all or something? Ha! I sound crazy. Might as well just loop me with all the alien conspiracy theorists. I’m just trying to find an excuse because it’s not the squip, it’s me. How do I know? Because Michael wasn’t squiped and he’s not talking to me either. Honestly, I never thought it would hurt this much. You’d think I’d get used to it. I got used to the squip in my head again. He never has anything nice to say. Ah, but the squip is gone right, so that’s not the squip talking…it’s me. Ha…I guess I deserve that too. How fun._

 

“So he really was hearing the squip again.” He could feel pressure building behind his eyes. The more he read the more he wanted to stop, but he couldn’t.

 

_I’m terrible._

_Everything about me is terrible._

_Everything about me makes me want to die._

_I deserve to die._

_I should just disappear._

_How do you make it stop? Every time someone looks at me I feel guilt. Every time someone laughs I feel like it at me. I’ve never been this isolated before. I don’t know what to do anymore. My dad’s determined to be there for me. He suggested homeschooling. He says he can see how being at school is effecting me. He doesn’t want to see me like this anymore. He’s trying. At least someone is trying to help. I actually considered homeschooling. I don’t know how much longer I can last at that school the way things are right now, but every time I debate the choice I hear the squip calling me weak for running away…I guess he’s right. He told me once that everything without the squip is terrible, and now it’s finally sinking in. He was right._

 

This was worse than anything Michael had ever gone through. He’d had a panic attack in the bathroom, but Jeremy was—he didn’t even know if there was a word to classify how messed up this all was. But his dad said he _wasn’t_ suicidal? 

 

_Desensitize – to make (someone) less likely to feel shock or distress at scenes of cruelty, violence, or suffering by overexposure to such images. That’s what’s happened to me. The panic attacks are still bad, but they only really happen when I think about Michael too much. I’ve grown used to the constant loop playing in my head too. I don’t really feel anything anymore. I’m not sure I can. What’s the point? I get my hopes up only for something or someone to stomp me right back into the mud. It’s easier to not feel to…_

 

_I just purchased a pair of soundproof headphones so I can block out everyone. Best purchase in the history of all purchases. Doesn’t change the empty hole that’s already consumed me, but music is a small relief._

 

_Do you think they’ll ever forgive me? Honestly, I can’t wait for college now. I just want this all to be over, but I have another year. I don’t think I can do this for another year. Michael hates me, Christine hates me, Jake and Rich hate me, the entire damn school hates me. AND I DESERVE ALL OF IT! I don’t want to do this anymore. I just want to be happy again, but I guess I don’t deserve that either._

 

_Dad asked me if I was suicidal after my last panic attack. It was the worst I’ve had in a while, and I did some things I shouldn’t have. I guess it’s a good thing we both stayed home, but it sort of hit me today that if I were to just disappear no one would care. I mean, I’m sure my dad would, but he has to care. Or he’s supposed to care. I guess not all dads care, and I guess I’m lucky, but seriously. No one would care if I disappeared. I don’t even think they would notice anymore._

 

_There are too many voices in my head. This morning the squip told me I was a worthless piece of shit and I should go die. I laughed. My dad was concerned. He said I sounded hysterical, but it was funny because that was the nicest thing the squip had told me all week._

 

_When was the last time I actually smiled?_

 

_Maybe I should just disappear. Disappearing would be better than these beatings. I don’t know why they keep doing it. I get it. Stay away from Michael. I’ve kept my distance. I’ve actively avoided the halls he takes going from class to class. I haven’t been in the cafeteria in weeks. Any interaction isn’t purposeful. I just want it all to stop. I wish they could all forgive me. Even if they did I’m—I’m not sure anything would really change.Talking to any of them might as well be a death wish at this point, and I don’t think I can ever see that changing._

 

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

_I’m so sorry_

_I’m so so sorry._

_I fucked up bad._

_It’s all my fault. Everything’s my fault._

_I’m so sorry Michael. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry you didn’t deserve that._

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

 

_…I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much. I don’t even feel like I’m living anymore. I don’t feel like I actually exist. I’m just—I’m nothing. That’s what I am. I am nothing. I’m insignificant. I should just disappear. Yeah, I’ll do that. It’s probably better than staying here. Anything is better than staying her. Everything is better than staying here._

 

_I ran into Michael today. This was the first time we talked in god knows how long. He looked concerned. He had the gall to care. What a joke. Nobody cares about me. I’m obsolete and I think it’s about time for me to go._

 

Michael wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but the last entry tore his heart out and ground it up in a blender. He’d messed up. He’s messed up real bad. He’d messed up and now it was too late. This was his fault. Everything that happened with Jeremy was his fault. He couldn’t stay mad at him, he knew that. Michael wasn’t mad at Jeremy, not really. Yes, certain things hurt, but they’d been through thick and thin together. This shouldn’t have been any different. His best friend had seemingly lost his will to live and it was all his fault.

“I’m a terrible friend.” He tried to stand up, but as soon as he was on his feet the room began to spin and swirl. His head felt light and he couldn’t’ control his breathing. He recognized the beginning stages of a panic attack and he’s had enough of them to know what to do. He hoped Jeremy had too. He found the paper bag on the bedside table and pressed the opening against his mouth until he was able to calm down.

Michael didn’t have time to be debilitated by an anxiety attack. He needed to talk to the others and he needed to work on a way to contact Jeremy. He needed to find a way to tell Jeremy sorry in a way the other would believe. But first thing first. He needed to figure out why everyone still hated Jeremy.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Jeremy was buying a one-way ticket for whichever greyhound was departing next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never really written angst before (or straight up suffering as a friend described this) but i hope you enjoy. Now i get to go do homework I put off all day while I worked on this chapter.


	3. A Place to Stay

Jeremy would like to claim things were off to a good start, but waking up in a strange room in a town you technically just arrived in wasn’t a good sign. There was an IV in his arm, but the room didn’t look like a hospital. He wasn’t really sure what happened to land him there either. His bag was resting in a chair nearby, and next to his bag was a girl. She was reading a book but looked up when Jeremy stirred on the cot.  
“Oh look, he’s still alive.”

  
“Uh…” She didn’t smile, just studied him as he tried to get his bearings. Jeremy remembered getting off the greyhound. He’d been taken to some city in Virginia if he recalled correctly. He had been hoping to find a place to stay the night, but he was short on money since the bus ticket had cost more than he’d anticipated.

“You passed out from malnutrition apparently. I happened upon you on my way home and brought you to the urgent care.” Jeremy continued to stare at his apparent rescuer.

  
“Thanks for your help. I didn’t realize urgent care’s handled situations like this. I thought it was just for broken bones and alcohol poisoning.” The girl shrugged.

  
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t want to go to the hospital considering you’ve run away.” He continued to stare trying to figure out how she could have pieced that together, but the dark skinned girl held up his wallet. “I took the liberty of looking through it because I was trying to find an ID. Jerimiah Heere from New Jersey. You are a long way from home.”

  
“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t say anything else. There was no need was there? Why would anyone want to listen to his sob story? That’s all it was, wasn’t it? Excuses for everything he deserved. He’d been a terrible person, but he was looking for a fresh start so he figured he’d keep his past to himself for now.

  
“I’m Solaria Kingston. Most people just call me Sol.”

“Most people call me Jeremy.” She smiled at him. It wasn’t a large grin, but it lit a strange feeling in Jeremy’s chest. Her smile was soft and warm, and Jeremy realized no one had smiled at him like that in a while. There was no hidden malice hidden behind the curve of her lips, no judgment in her eyes. Jeremy felt like crying.

  
“Are you okay?” He couldn’t help it, a few tears spilled from his eyes. He wiped them away, careful of the IV still in his arm, and nodded smiling back at her. God, it felt so good to smile! And he felt happy. Not super happy, but there was a warm bubbly feeling in his chest. Maybe it wasn’t happiness. Maybe it was more like relief, but Jeremy still found himself smiling back at Sol who watched him like he was some drunkard going crazy on the streets. “Geez, what kind of household did you run away from?”

  
“I didn’t run away from my family. My dad hasn’t always been the best dad, but he’s doing his best. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he guessed I would run away, but I left a note saying I would call when I was ready.”

  
“So if you weren’t running away from your family what were you running away from?” Jeremy didn’t want to answer that, and thankfully he didn’t have to. The doctor picked that exact moment to walk into the room. He was an older looking guy, late forties with dark hair and glasses.

  
“Well Jeremiah, you gave us a scare but your health seems perfectly fine. You had an iron deficiency, and you hadn’t been eating enough, so we’re going to give you some supplements. So long as you consume the appropriate amount of food we shouldn’t have to see you back here again.”

  
“So I’m free to go?”

  
“There’s a bit of paperwork, but yes. I’ll have someone come take that IV out and you should be out of here in the next twenty minutes.” Jeremy nodded his thanks as the doctor left replaced soon by a nurse who removed the IV and gave him all the paperwork he had to sign. Since he had no money Jeremy sent the bills to his father, which meant he would need to call sooner rather than later. No need to unnecessarily cause him to panic. When everything was finished, Jeremy was shown the door and told he could leave. Sol followed Jeremy out the door. She was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a short sleeved flannel, sporting a pair of red converse, and Jeremy could feel her brown eyes on the back of his head.

  
“Where are you going?” She asked when Jeremy finally stopped. He had no idea where to go or what to do. His money was limited and he really didn’t want to go crawling back to his dad yet. He just needed some time to get situated.

  
“Do you need anything else from me?” Jeremy asked, turning to face Sol. "I mean, thank you for your help, but we’re still technically strangers." _And I’m probably bothering her like I do with everyone who’s around me._

  
“I asked where you're going. You're clearly out of your comfort zone and it's clear you don’t know anyone in the city otherwise you wouldn't be wandering around so aimlessly and since we’ve passed three motels and you’ve yet to stop at any I can guess you’ve got no money.”

  
“Do you make it a habit to pry into other people’s business?” Again she smiled. It was different this time. It was mischievous and playful and he felt that weird emotion in his chest again.

  
“No, but I do make it my business to pry into the lives of people I found passed out on the sidewalk. If you have nowhere to stay, you can come to my house. It’s just my brother and me, but we’ve got an extra bed.”

  
“You’re inviting a random stranger into your house? That doesn’t sound weird and it definitely doesn’t sound like the opening to a Criminal Minds episode.”

  
“I sat in that room for three hours waiting for you to wake up just so I could offer you a roof over your head.”

  
“But why?” Jeremy asked. “People aren’t just nice to me unless they want something.”

  
“Well, then the people you surround yourself with are assholes.”

“You still haven’t told me why you're being so nice.”

  
“And you never told me why you ran away.” Jeremy stared and she stared in return. He wouldn’t win with her.

  
“Fine, I’ll stay with you for one night, but if I sense anything even remotely strange I am hi-tailing it out of there.” She studied him briefly, but whatever question was on the tip of her tongue, she must have swallowed because she shrugged her shoulder and walked passed him.

  
“Follow me Mr. Runaway.” Jeremy did as told trailing behind Sol as she led him to a bus stop. She didn't talk to him much, which Jeremy was honestly thankful for, instead she sat still reading through a book that Jeremy immediately recognized as a script. Unfortunately, there was no indicator as to what play she was preparing for and Jeremy didn't want to ask, but he was curious.

  
“So do you live nearby?”

  
“I live about ten miles from here. We just have to catch a bus, I can pay for your ride since you probably don’t have any money.”

  
“I have money.”

  
“Yeah, but it’s not money you want to waste in case you end up having to sneak out in the middle of the night.” She had a point. He might be sneaking out in the middle of the night. This entire situation seemed very suspicious, so he let her pay for his bus ride and let her lead him back to her house. It was a nice place, a two-floor townhouse that resided in a seemingly nice neighborhood towards a suburban area of town.

  
“I don’t understand why you’re letting me, a complete stranger, come into your house.”

  
“Because you, a complete stranger, clearly need the help.” She opened the front door and stepped in. “You can leave your bag by the front door. I told Byron I would cook tonight, so you can come hang out in the kitchen and maybe tell me why you ran away?”

  
“Or we could talk about literally anything else.” He mumbled, but Sol must not have heard him. She made her way to the kitchen, which was spacey and connected to the living room and the dining area.

  
“How old are you?” She pointed to the counter top, motioning for Jeremy to take a seat as she began to pillage the fridge for supplies.

  
“I turned seventeen a month ago.”

  
“I’m still sixteen. So you’re a junior in high school?”

  
“I am. I take it you’re a sophomore then?”

  
“That I am. Are you hungry? You did just get out of urgent care for malnutrition. When’s the last time you ate?”

  
“uh…” Jeremy couldn’t really remember. He’d left his phone at home so all he had was an itouch he’d kept from a few years ago, but it was dead. He’d arrived in town early this morning and had decided against getting food because he needed somewhere to sleep. “Half a day maybe?” She pulled out some fruit and started washing them, placing them out on the counter when she was done.

  
“Dinner will be ready within the hour. So munch on this until then. My brother should be here soon. I’d appreciate if you would explain your situation at least a little bit to him since this is his house. You clearly ran away for a reason and if you won’t tell me, at least tell him.” Jeremy didn’t want to talk about it, but he assumed it was the least he could do since he was being offered a place to stay.

  
He figured it wouldn’t be too bad if he kept certain details to himself. Explaining the details of the squip would make him seem crazy, but saying he ran away because of extreme bullying would make sense. Sure it might seem stupid but at least it would make sense. He munched on fruit while he tried to create a solid story, and was too lost in thought to notice when someone had stepped up behind him.

  
“I don’t know you.” The voice was much deeper than Sol’s, and considering she was standing in front of him it couldn’t be her. Jeremy jumped out of his seat, turning to face the man who he could only assume was Sol’s brother. He was taller than and had lighter skin than his sister, but darker hair. His eyes were a startling gray and seemed to bear into Jeremy’s soul as he stared down at him.

  
“Byron, this is Jeremy. Jeremy this is my older brother Byron.”

  
“This is the kid you picked up?” He asked looking past Jeremy to his sister. Byron was intimidating. He was a well-built guy, probably worked out regularly, and he had an air of confidence Jeremy could never hope of acquiring.

  
“Yes, he is. Dinner's almost ready if you two want to talk.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He looked back to Jeremy, “Follow me, please.” He nodded, following Byron from the kitchen and up the stairs. There were four rooms upstairs. One was a bathroom, two were bedrooms, and the last one at the end of the hall was a small office. They were going to the office.

  
There were a lot of shelves full of books. There were text books, and fiction books, and business books. Jeremy looked around, taking in everything. There was so much here for someone who looked so young. He couldn’t be any older than a college graduate.

  
“So, Jeremy,” Byron began taking a seat in one of those cushioned spinning seats. There was a desk pressed up against the wall with a large PC monitor sitting on top. Papers were scattered around, but Jeremy couldn’t make heads or tails of what was on them. “Sol tells me you’re a runaway.”

  
“I am. I’m really hoping I’m not going to be murdered tonight.” It took Jeremy a moment to realized what he said had been rude. He was so used to giving snappy remarks to people because no matter what he said they were still going to hate him. “Wait, sorry.”

  
“No, it's fine. This is a weird situation. Do you mind if I ask why you ran away?” There was the question, but Byron wasn’t demanding an answer. That was the first thing Jeremy noticed. Byron was asking for Jeremy’s trust. Asking for him to explain the situation.

  
“I wasn’t in a great situation back home. well, I guess I should say back at school instead of back at home. Some stuff happened at our school play and I unintentionally set myself up at the center of all the chaos and the blame fell on me. Since it was a big deal, most of the student body came to hate me. I couldn’t deal with it anymore so I left.” It was a plain and simple answer, and Jeremy was glad he'd managed to do it without mentioning the squip, but Byron looked suspicious.

  
“That’s a cookie cutter response, but I won’t force you to break the mold. If you wanna give me more details eventually, my doors always open.”

  
“I’m only staying for the night.” Byron laughed at that. Well, it wasn’t really a laugh, more like a short amused huff.

  
“Where do you plan on going after tonight? You’re a runaway, Jeremy. Clearly you don’t have family in the area or you would have already gone there. And if Sol trusts you enough to offer you a place to stay, then I trust you too. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I’m not short on money, and I have a steady income. I’d appreciate if you could pull some weight around the house if you do decide to stay. You don't have to stay, the choice is yours, but I just want you to know that it's an option.”

  
“You’re what? Twenty-four?”

  
“Twenty-five, actually.”

  
“There’s such a large age gap between you and Sol.” Byron laughed again.

  
“You know, that’s the first thing everyone points out when I tell them we’re siblings. She was adopted after my dad’s second marriage.”

 

“Why is she living with you then?”

 

“You ask a lot of questions.”

 

“Just trying to understand.” He explained. “Don’t mean to pry, but if you’re randomly offering me a place to stay till I can figure things out, I’m going to be suspicious. Maybe you run a kidnapping ring or something. Pull in runaways with the lure of a place to rest their head and then ship them off to god knows where.” 

 

“Fair enough. Allow me to explain then. My mother passed away from a car crash when I was eight and my step mother passed away from cancer when I was seventeen. Stuff happened between Sol and my dad so as soon as I became legal I got her and myself the hell out of dodge. He’s currently in a mental facility, and I’ve acquired the status of Sol’s legal guardian. No kidnapping ring, just two siblings trying to make the best out of a shitty situation.” 

 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re offering me a bed.” 

 

“Because someone did the same for us. I didn’t leave my dad’s place and immediately have a place to call home. Sol and I were on the streets for a month or two before an old couple found us and offered us a place to stay. They housed us until I was on my feet with a solid job. When I was on my feet, I started to pay rent. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t really know what would have happened to Sol and me. The Foresters are the reason we're offering you a place to stay. We’re returning the favor, at least that’s what Sol wants to do.”

  
“So your sister just brings in a random boy and you don’t have a problem with it?”

  
“I had a preliminary background check done on you before coming home. You’re in the clear.” That wasn’t what he expected. Jeremy hadn’t ever had a background check done on him before, and he didn’t think it was possible to do one so quickly. He’d only met Sol a few hours ago…then again. She had been waiting for him to wake up, and she had looked at his ID.

 

“Isn’t that a violation of privacy?”

  
“They were public records. They’re not hard to find. Besides, I work as an IT at a law firm, I have connections.”

  
“Noted. You’re sure it’s okay for me to stay?”

  
“You’re not a criminal right?”

“No.”

  
“Not a pedophile?”

  
“Absolutely not.”

  
“No petty theft?”

  
“None at all.”

  
“Then go talk to Sol. She probably wants help putting stuff out for dinner. I'll come down in a while, I have to finish something for class first.” Jeremy nodded and retreated from the room. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but some part of him was happy. He wasn’t used to people treating him well. He’d expected to be interrogated, but Byron had been chill. Sol was really nice too. There was something about her Jeremy couldn’t quite place, but he like her. She was nice. He forgot what it felt like for people to be nice to him (he didn’t count his teachers or his dad). Still there was a seed of doubt.

  
As he walked down the hall, he passed a mirror. It was only a short glimpse, but he could have sworn he saw the squip standing behind him. After a double take, it was gone, but Jeremy couldn’t stop shaking as the voice in his head spoke up. _You’re going to mess this up like you messed up everything else. Just wait. You’ll see._

  
He tried to act like everything was okay when he reached the kitchen, and he knew he was doing a terrible job at hiding his panic, but either Sol didn’t notice or she didn’t feel the need to point it out. Instead she created casual conversation hopping from topic to topic while finishing dinner and helping Jeremy find the plates and silverware so he could set the table. He listened to her talk, feeling his nerves calm as time passed.  
_Maybe staying here won't be so bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda boring...sorry. I'm doing my best. I've been hella busy and apparently i just got selected for Jury duty so...
> 
> Life's fun.


	4. Jeremy in the Bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic attacks and milk

 

Jeremy couldn’t sleep. Okay, that’s not true. He slept for an hour before waking up in a cold sweat, confused as hell because he was not in his room back home. No, he was in a smaller room that was painted a soft sea green instead of his blue, and he panicked. First the dream, and now the unknown location? He wasn’t in a good place mentally, and he stumbled out of bed, trying to find a bathroom so he could hopefully wake himself up.

There was a bathroom down the hall on the right, and some part of him felt a little relief when he reached it. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to calm himself down, and it worked...sorta. He felt calmer when the water hit his face, but when he stood up and saw himself in the mirror it was like the world came crashing down again.

There he was in all his loser-ish glory. His reflection smirking back at him; judging him.

 _Pathetic._ It said, studying Jeremy. His reflection had everything Jeremy lacked. Confidence, snark, happiness. Hell, it was probably friends with the reflections of all the people who hated him. _Pathetic and Weak Jeremy. You couldn’t even stay in the city. You just had to run away from your problems like it would make everything better.”_  His heart raced and his breath hitched.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

  _You really think these people are going to let you stay when they realized how much of a fuck up you are?_

 “Shut up!” He yelled a bit louder as the events of the past day came back to him. He was staying at a strangers house. He was staying with Sol and Byron. They had offered him their guest room until he was situated. He remembered having dinner with them. He remembered laughing as Sol recounted her play rehearsal. God, he hadn’t laughed like that in ages.

  _You don’t deserve it after everything you did._

 “You don’t know that.” He mumbled, stepping away from the mirror. He felt his back hit the wall and he felt his breaths quicken as he stared at his reflection. His own reflection thought he was pathetic.

  _How long till you fuck up and they learn who you really are Jeremy?_

 “Shut up!” he yelled, wishing everything would stop. He wanted this to stop. He left to get away from this. He clenched his eyes shut, gripping the edge of his hair trying to shut out his reflection, trying to shut out the voice, but the next time it spoke it was different. It wasn’t Jeremy’s voice.

 _Everything about you is terrible, Jeremy._ His heart stopped. He wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing, and when he looked back up at the mirror, he wasn’t looking at his reflection. No, he was looking at his squid. He was standing there in the mirror with the same smug judgmental look he always wore. _If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t be in this situation. You would be with the girl you love._  An image of Christine formed beside him, but it wasn’t the Christine he’d known. It wasn’t the one from before the play either. It was the one with the squip, the one with the abnormal electric glint in her eyes. The one who looked at him like she’d been in love with him for years when he knew that wasn’t true.

“Just, leave me alone!” He yelled, not caring how loud he was. “Please.”

  _But you’re miserable, Jeremy. I’m here to make your life better._

 “You ruined my life,” he whimpered, sliding to the floor. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

  _But Jeremy, I’m here to improve your life, now listen and repeat. Everything about you is so terrible._

 “No…”

  _Everything about you makes me want to die._

 “Stop!” He begged, his voice sounding small in his own ears. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t Breathe.

  _Jeremy._

 He flinched recognizing the tone of voice. The squid always spoke his name like that right before punishment.

  _Repeat after me. Everything about you is so terrible._

 Jeremy curled into himself, hugging his legs and burying his head in his knees. He nodded his head no, hoping if he couldn’t see the squip it would go away because it was gone. He’d shut it down, this should be done with. He flinched again when the hallucination said his name, and after ordering him to repeat his words, Jeremy found himself complying. If he said them, maybe the thing would go away and leave him alone.

“Everything about me is so terrible,” He mumbled into his knees. “Everything about me makes me want to die.”

_Jeremy!_

“Everything about me is so terrible. Everything about me makes me want to die.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, not realizing how his volume had increased. He was so focused on the words he couldn’t hear the weird frantic tone that has seeped into the squips voice when it called out his name.

His head felt so loud and he just wanted the noise to stop. He wanted his reflection to shut up. He wanted the squip to go away. He wanted to die. Maybe death would shop it all…

“No. No. NO! I can’t think like that.” He wanted to scream. He might have been screaming, but as loud as everything was, it was suddenly masked by a different noise. Instead of his own voice screaming in his head, it was drowned out by a new noise. It was drowned out by the ocean. The sound of waves echo inside of his head, replacing the old noise, and giving him a brief moment of clarity.

After letting the waves drown his own thoughts he looked up. He was half expecting to see the squip still standing over him, but instead, he was met with Sol’s worried gaze. She was saying something, but Jeremy couldn’t hear her over the cry of the ocean. She tapped the said of her head, and Jeremy mimicked her, realizing he had headphones on his ears.

“W--When did…” He removed one of the ears but kept the other in place. He didn’t want the comforting noise to go away. Not yet.

“What happened?” Sol asked.

“What? No ‘are you okay?’” he joked, but he didn’t smile. He was still pretty shaken up. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he knew it wasn’t the first time nor would it likely be the last.

“You’re obviously not okay, dipshit. I heard you fall from my room. When I came to see what was going on, because I honestly thought someone had broken into the house, you were huddled against the wall saying stuff I don’t even want to repeat. So yeah, you’re probably not okay, and it seems like a dumb question to ask, but maybe I can help you feel a little bit better.” She stood up and offered a hand. “You think you can walk?” Jeremy stared up at her and, after a few moments, reached up and took her hand, letting Sol pull him to his feet.

She helped him down the stairs to the kitchen and tossed a blanket his way when he was seated at the bar top counter. Jeremy watched her move around the kitchen quietly. If he remembered correctly, Byron slept on the first floor.

“Don’t worry about my brother, he’s a heavy sleeper,” Sol informed as if she could read Jeremy’s mind. “You won’t wake him up.”

“W—what—” his voice cracked when he tried to speak and he felt his face flush as Sol laughed softly. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What are you doing?”

“I have insomnia and night terrors, Jeremy. I wake up in the dead of night in a cold sweat unable to fall back asleep. It’s gotten better over the years, but my mom used to have a trick. She would make this for me whenever I couldn’t fall back asleep and after she passed away, Byron would make it for me.” The microwave beeps and Sol grabbed two hot pads from a drawer so she could pull the two mugs safely out of the machine. She placed them on the counter and pulled out other things from the drawers. Jeremy watched her stir in honey and a little vanilla, before sprinkling in some cinnamon and stirring it all up. She placed one mug before Jeremy and began to sip her own.

“You know, they did a study and they say warm milk doesn’t actually affect your sleeping patterns.” Jeremy studied her as she drank the liquid. She kept the mug close to her mouth between sips, closing her eyes as if enjoying every sip. He looked down at his own mug.

“If it doesn’t help with sleeping patterns then why do you drink it?”

“Why don’t you take a sip and maybe you’ll figure it out.” Jeremy looked back at the mug, eyeing the warm liquid, before lifting it to his mouth and drinking some. It was warm and sweet and not entirely like milk, but he felt like he could feel it pass through his body and there was something incredibly relaxing about it.

“Oh, god, this is good.” He took another sip, taking his time and enjoying the warm drink. He set it down when he’d drank roughly half of it and looked to Sol. “Thank you for helping me. I—I don’t really know what happened,” which was half of the truth. “I was a little disoriented since I woke up so suddenly and wasn’t in my own bed.”

“Disorientation doesn’t cause someone to say anything remotely close to what you were saying, Jeremy.” She was quiet, and he wondered what was going through her head.

 

_She’s probably realizing how much of a mistake it was to help you._

 

“It looked like you were suffering from a panic attack or some type of PTSD episode. You’re also only seventeen, so I can't help but wonder what happened back at your home that could give you PTSD?”

“I don’t have ptsd.”

“My step-dad had it. Still has it. It’s…” She shook her head. “I guess we both have our problems. And I know you don’t want to talk about whatever it was that happened to you tonight, but just know my door is always open. And never feel bad about waking me up, I will make these for you whenever you need them so long as the supplies permit it.” She downed the rest of her drink and placed the empty mug in the sink. “I know this wasn’t much of a deep and personal talk, but I don’t want to force you. I speak from experience when I say forcing someone to talk about their past is the worst thing you can do sometimes, but—” she walked around the counter and placed a hand on his shoulder, “you’re not alone.”

Jeremy smiled slightly, despite the odd feeling that was quickly growing in his chest. “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve heard in months.”

“Well, you’re welcome for the milk. Keep the headphones, you never know when you might need them. I am going to bed. I have rehearsal in the morning.”

“Good night, Sol.”

“Good night, Jeremy. Try to get some sleep if you can.” He nodded as she returned to her room. He listened to her footsteps retreating up the stairs and listened to her door click shut before he let his façade to drop. He curled the blanket around his shoulders and let his face drop against the cool granite counter top. He finally realized the feeling that was blooming inside of him. He wanted to cry. It wasn't like the panic induced crying he’d experienced a while ago. Jeremy literally couldn’t recall the last time someone other than his father and the school nurse had been concerned about him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had sat beside him till he calmed down, or done anything to help him in his worst moments.

 

_You don’t deserve her._

 

“Shut up,” he hissed, sipping his drink. He really liked the milk, and Jeremy had never been much of a milk person. Despite the study saying it doesn’t affect people’s sleeping patterns, Jeremy felt ready to pass out when he finally finished the mug. He left his empty glass in the sink and began to trudge back up the stairs. He didn’t fall asleep as soon as he hit the bed, but it didn’t take long. No one bothered to wake him up the next morning, and when he finally opened his eyes again, it was nearly noon. When he left the room there was a letter taped to his door.

 

 

_Jeremy,_

_Sol told me not to wake you up. She said you had a long night, and I’m inclined to believe her based on the two empty mugs in the kitchen sink. I don’t know what happened to you back home, but the offer to stay here until things get sorted out or you feel comfortable enough to go home still stands. I don’t know when you’ll wake up, hopefully before noon, but it’s unlikely either Sol or myself will be home. Help yourself to whatever food you can find, and if you could do me a favor I would appreciate it. Yesterday I said the price for you staying would be to help out around the house. I would appreciate if you would walk Sol home from rehearsal today. She's gonna have a long rehearsal today and I don’t want her walking home alone in the dark if I can help it. The address is listed below as are instruction on how to get there by bus as well as money for the bus. She should be done around six or seven. I know you don't have a phone on you, so I'm going to pick up one of those cheaper ones from Walmart. It's not the best, but it'll have to do with the current funds you have. Eventually, if you're up to it, you should look into finding a job in the area, but for now, you don't have to worry. Just focus on picking up my sister and adjusting._

_Byron_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school started and college is killing me slowly. Updates might not be very frequent, but i'll try to write whenever i have the free time. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience. 
> 
> Please comment if you liked it or have any feedback, and i love discussing theories or predictions people have for what might happen next so hit me up in the comments and I'll get back to you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought.


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